


Never Have I Ever

by ifyoucouldholdme



Category: IT (1990), IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged-Up Losers Club (IT), Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Bisexual Richie Tozier, College, Coming Out, Drunk Richie Tozier, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Shenanigans, Gay, Gay Bill Denbrough, Gay Stanley Uris, Internalized Homophobia, Losers Club (IT) Friendship, Love Confessions, M/M, Never Have I Ever, Reddie, Richie Tozier is a Little Shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-19 21:38:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18978847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifyoucouldholdme/pseuds/ifyoucouldholdme
Summary: “The name of the game,” Richie belted, “is Never Have I Ever! We each take turns declaring something we’ve never done, if nobody cheats,” he shot a narrow glare at Beverly, “and all you dirty sluts that have done it must take a sip of whatever drink they choose. Got it?”“Shut up so we can get started,” Stan bossed louder than he anticipated. Richie eyed him with a curious gaze which made him tense a little. “Stan the Man! Eager beaver tonight. You’re usually the buzzkill in these things.”That’s only when Bill’s here. Richie’s expression took a more mischievous shape. Did I say that out loud?





	Never Have I Ever

Maybe partying this hard was not the wisest choice, but it had been one hell of a week for Stan. After surviving midterm exams, there was also a group project, an oral presentation, and several papers to turn in. As well as his schoolwork, Stan also found himself actively avoid Bill. This turned out to be more difficult than he had first thought since they lived on the same hall of the dorms. Bill hadn’t actually done anything to warrant such a silent treatment, but lately Stan noticed himself developing a strange fixation on his easy-going friend. Little things would catch his eye. Bill’s stardust freckled face. The way he gently bit his bottom lip when concentrating on his novel of the week. Over time, Stan had come to terms with his sexuality regarding his faith and his religious upbringing. That did not change the fact that falling for a straight boy—a straight best friend—was begging for heartbreak. These thoughts couldn’t bother him if he kept himself from constantly seeing Bill.  
This is why the glass of Moscato he usually nursed at these Losers’ Club get-togethers tonight became three shots of tequila with a Sprite chaser. The giddy lightheadedness, although not a sensation he usually enjoyed, was miles better than worrying about grades or schoolboy fantasies.   
“Stanley, there you are!” An exuberant Eddie appeared seemingly from nowhere. “How did you end up in the kitchen, silly?” Stan had no recollection of making his way to a cross legged perch on top of the kitchen counter, but given the shots and his lovestruck musings, that wasn’t surprising. Eddie just shook his head, giggling. He grabbed Stan’s wrist and dragged him away, “Come on, Stanny-Bird, stop nesting by yourself. We’re about to start a game in the living room.”  
“Isn’t Richie supposed to be the one with the stupid nicknames?” Stan teased, finding his voice once again.   
Eddie flustered a bit. “Yeah, I guess he’s rubbed off on me, hasn’t he?”  
“That’s not all I’ve done to you, Spaghetti, my love,” a plastered Richie crooned from atop their surprisingly sturdy coffee table.   
“Fuck off, Tozier,” Eddie retorted with a middle finger and a sloppy wink.  
“Will do, babe. Now get in the circle. I want to get some new dirt on you guys.” The boys dropped into place with the others. Stan felt a wave of joy mixed with his drunkenness as he glanced around at the rest of his friends. Beverly and Ben had already squished themselves the sole recliner available. Mike lounged in front of the television, probably already to drunk to move. Bill had, fortunately for Stan, had to finish a research paper of his own, which is the only reason Stan had allowed himself any alcohol in the first place.   
“The name of the game,” Richie belted, “is Never Have I Ever! We each take turns declaring something we’ve never done, if nobody cheats,” he shot a narrow glare at Beverly, “and all you dirty sluts that have done it must take a sip of whatever drink they choose. Got it?”  
“Shut up so we can get started,” Stan bossed louder than he anticipated. Richie eyed him with a curious gaze which made him tense a little. “Stan the Man! Eager beaver tonight. You’re usually the buzzkill in these things.”  
That’s only when Bill’s here. Richie’s expression took a more mischievous shape. Did I say that out loud? Thankfully, Richie either took mercy on Stan or didn’t actually hear anything, because he plopped into his own spot next to Eddie. “Who’s going first?”  
Bev leaned forward and almost toppled out of the chair. “I got one. Never have I ever snuck into someone else’s room after dark,” she slurred, sending a challenging smirk in Richie’s direction. He raised an eyebrow as he drank from his beer.   
“I see how it is, Marsh,” he replied. Eddie chuckled playfully at the thought of Richie and Beverly duking it out. “Oh, you think that’s funny?” his boyfriend said from under a mess of unkempt bangs. “Alright, then. Never have I ever belted along to Mamma Mia in the shower.”  
“Oh, you ass!” Eddie slapped his arm and took a drink. Across the circle, Ben tried to unsuccessfully hide his own raised glass. “See, at least Ben can appreciate some culture.”   
Stan watched the ensuing tickle fight, a drunken smile tinged with a touch of longing on his face, unaware of the knock at the door behind him. He loved his friends more than even his own family, but the teasing banter between the couples twisted his chest into a jumbled mess. Every affectionate touch only reminded him that he would never be held by the one boy that he dreamt of. That he would never feel Bill’s hands in his. That when his night terrors woke him in the darkness, he would be alone no matter how fervently he prayed otherwise. At least tonight there was no sign of Bill to make him feel even worse, and he had the tequila to make him feel better.  
“Give us a good one, Stanley. I’m getting bored over here,” Mike interrupted Stan’s pity party. He sputtered back to attention.  
“My turn already?”  
“Yeah, Eddie went to get the door, so you’re next,” Richie nudged him with a bony elbow. “Let’s have some scandals already!”  
Stan’s mind drifted and muddled too much to think intricately enough to find anything racy enough for a drunk Trashmouth, so he settled on the first thing his addled brain suggested. “Never have I ever been naked in front of somebody. Well, besides my parents, anyway.” Then again, maybe he could.   
“Well, damn,” Richie cawed, as he took another sip of his beer, along with all the other Losers. “I guess Stan the Man isn’t a man just yet. We’ll have to fix that soon, Virgin Stanny.” He gave Stan a salacious wink.  
“S-Stan’s a v-v-virgin?” came the familiar voice, giving Stan chills.   
Oh, no. No, no, no, no. He’s supposed to be busy tonight. Nevertheless, there stood Bill, cheeks as bright as the tuft of hair brushing the top of his brow. This monolith of Stan’s childhood had indeed arrived. He had tried so hard to avoid the other boy this week, and now he had to maneuver the evening through the haze of alcohol and lovestruck fantasies. Worst of all, because his stupid, unfiltered brain, his crush now knew he was completely inexperienced romantically. Shit.  
Mike and Beverly erupted in a cheer upon seeing Bill make his way to the open spot directly across the circle from Stan, because of course he would. “We’re playing Never Have I Ever and apparently already learning some new secrets,” she explained, giving Stan an overly exaggerated grin. The poor boy anxiously bit his lip and stared at Bill, waiting for any reaction. Bill’s eyes were planted on him in an almost melancholy stare.  
“I n-noticed,” he plainly stated.  
Stan knew he shouldn’t have hidden from Bill and understood that the other must feel confused and likely hurt. After all, his best friend had basically stopped talking to him for most of a week, all because Stan couldn’t handle falling in love with Bill when he knew that Bill couldn’t love him back. Did Stan truly love Bill beyond a silly infatuation? Gazing at the sullen boy across from him—his leader, his inspiration— he supposed he did in fact love Bill. He loved him with all he was, no matter what his father or the Torah condemned. No matter the pain of his unrequited attachment.  
“You guys skipped me?” Eddie exclaimed in only slightly exaggerated irritation. Richie tried to appease him with a giggly peck on the cheek but got an elbow in the ribs for his effort. “Aw, chillax, babe. You got up during your turn, and I’m impatient. I just wanna get to the dirty shit.”  
“You want dirty?” Eddie snipped, “Fine.” He turned into the circle in a theatrical fashion usually expected from his ham of a lover. “Never have I ever sucked a dick in a public restroom!” Everybody tried to muffle a cacophony of snickers as Richie’s face turned a deep crimson.  
“That is totally not fair, Eddie! You were there too.”  
“Yeah, but I just gave you a hand job.” He stuck out his tongue, satisfied and victorious.  
“M-maybe I should’ve w-waited a f-few more minutes b-before coming over.” All eyes turned to watch a still blushing Bill unashamedly took a drink of his freshly opened beer. Stan’s blood dropped to a freezing chill.  
Eddie, intensely intoxicated, missed what was unsaid yet understood. “No, Billy, I said ‘sucked a dick’ not ‘gotten my dick sucked.’”  
“I k-k-know.” Eddie stared quizzically at his reddening face. Everybody else was too dumbstruck to properly react. The up until now straight Bill Denbrough self-consciously lowered his gaze and muttered, “Y-you said you w-wanted s-s-secrets…”

What. The. Fuck.

Stan had finally been coming to terms with never having a romantic future with Bill—Straight Bill Denbrough—and now here’s the man of his dreams basically admitting he’s not entirely straight after all. This should have brought him an overabundance of excitement, instead it toppled the so carefully balanced platter of stress that had accumulated inside him all week long.  
“Well,” Richie had finally regained his ability to form words again. “Hell yeah, Big Bill!” He half leapt, half scrambled over the coffee table to give Bill an uncoordinated high five. “That’s my boy!”   
Why hadn’t Bill told Stan this? They never kept secrets from each other. Except for Stan’s feeling of course, but that was for good reason.  
“So, are you like bi then?” Bev asked, the game mostly forgotten.   
Did Bill not trust him? Or worse yet, did Bill know that Stan loved him and just pretended to like girls as some shitty way of letting him down without flat out rejecting him?  
“N-no, I d-don’t think so. I mean, y-y-yeah, I’ve dated a few g-g-girls, but not really because I wanted t-to. You know what other p-people think about…well, about p-people like m-m-me.”   
Bill’s eyes grew misty, but Stan was in too deep of a spiral to notice. On a normal day, he would’ve kept his cool. On a normal day, he would’ve given his polite smile until he returned to his room where he could violently sob in secret. Instead, tonight Stan had alcohol, and he had emotions, and he had to find out that the love of his life was gay by hearing him admit to fooling around with someone else during a freaking drinking game!  
“What the actual fuck, Bill?!” Stan erupted. The others snapped their heads towards him, Bill uttering a startled, “W-w-what?”  
“You’re gay?”  
“I g-guess…is that a p-p-problem?”  
Stan scoffed. “No. No problem at all. Let’s keep playing. I’ve got one. Never have I ever hidden a secret from my best friend.”  
“Stan—”  
“Drink, Bill.”  
The confusion across his freckled face now melted into pained anger. “F-fine. Never have I ever avoided my b-best friend with no w-warning. D-d-drink, Stan.”  
Stan was not about to let this argument turn on him, even if he knew he did not hold the moral high ground. “Never have I ever felt like I couldn’t trust my friends,” he roared.  
“N-never have I ever been a j-judgmental asshole,” Bill fired back, equally outraged. Ben, ever the peacekeeper, tried to deescalate the situation. “Guys, let’s calm down before—”  
It was out of Stan’s mouth before he could catch it. “Never have I ever shoved some guy’s dick down my throat!”  
Bill gave not retort this time. He just quietly set his unfinished beer on the table. Immediately losing all the fire in his chest, Stan tried to take back his words. “Bill, I didn’t—”  
“Stop.” No anger. No stutter. Bill was done. He rose quickly from his spot on the floor. “I think I s-should b-b-be g-going.”  
“Bill…” Eddie trailed after him.  
“T-thank you for inv-viting m-m-me Eddie. Every one of them caught sight of the tears that started to leak from his broken eyes.” Then he was out the door without another word.  
Stan’s entire world swirled to a screeching, sobering halt. “Way to go, fuck up,” he whispered to himself, not caring anymore if someone heard, as his own sorrow trickled over his cheeks. “You lost him for good, now.” The shame overwhelmed him, and he buried his face in his arms. A gentle hand caressed his hunched back as a surprisingly sober voice washed over him. “Well, you definitely were an ass, just now, but you can’t lose Bill that easily.”  
“Yeah, right, Bev,” he snapped through a hitch in his breathing.  
“Stan, the only reason you’re not getting a major lecture right now is because we know. You don’t have to say it. We can see how much you love that boy.” Stan skeptically glanced at each of the Losers who now gathered around him, expecting faces full of anger and disgust. The looks of concern there instead fueled the rising guilt caught in his throat. “I’m sorry, guys,” he croaked in defeat.  
“We don’t need an apology, Stan,” Eddie waved it off, “Just know that we love the shit out of you, no matter what stupid things to do.”  
Richie, trying to be somewhat serious added, “I mean, look at the stupid shit I do every day, and I’m still here.”  
“Bill cares about you just as much too. Probably more so,” Mike offered.  
Stan let out a disbelieving laugh. “Yeah, right. He definitely hates me now.”  
“Then go apologize,” Bev directed him, getting tired of his wallowing, “Go show him how you feel about him, ok?”  
“What if he refuses to speak to me?”  
Beverly flashed one of her patented warm-as-sunshine smiles. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”

With quivering knees and a massive clump of dread in his stomach, Stan hesitantly knocked on the door to Bill’s dorm, prepared for the worst. The resounding thud bounced away down the lifeless hallway. Stan waited in excruciating silence, almost ready to leave and try again later, until he heard the muffled pattering of uneven footsteps. The door creaked open, revealing a disheveled looking Bill. He had already changed into a worn shirt and the hideous tie-dye slipper socks Richie bought for his secret Santa present this year. The redness around his eyes and the tissue crumpled in his fist, however, suggested that he had been crying instead of sleeping. The shock of such a distraught Bill almost triggered Stan into another guilt driven breakdown, but he blinked back his own tears, determined to say what he had come here to say.  
“Stan,” Bill hoarsely spat in an unwelcome grumble.  
“Hey, Bill,” Stan replied in his own terrified mumble. The air was empty and tight for a moment as neither boy knew how to continue. “I need to talk to you,” Stan blurted suddenly. Bills brow furrowed into a frustrated divot.   
“I t-think you’ve s-said enough,” he dismissed as he started to close the door. Stan jumped forward, lodging himself between it and the frame.   
“Please, just wait,” he pleaded, “I want to apologize. You were just trying to be yourself with us—” Bill’s eyes flickered anxiously to either side of them, scanning the hall. “Not here,” he snapped in a harsh whisper, hastily pulling Stan into his room. The door slammed shut, and he locked it behind them. “It’s n-not safe to talk ab-bout that stuff outside.” The light was off, and a blanket cascaded across the floor, confirming that Bill had indeed been having a breakdown of his own. The thought brought a lump to Stan’s throat. “I’m sorry about tonight,” he said, “I shouldn’t have—”  
“No, you shouldn’t have.”  
That hurt, but Stan knew he deserved such a blunt reaction. Bill was far from through, though. “Do you kn-know how long I’ve w-wanted to tell you guys? D-do you understand w-what it took for m-me to even tell m-m-myself? I hated m-myself for years. I tried to change. I tried to hook up with g-g-girls, but n-nothing worked.  
“B-but things eventually g-got easier. The jokes and the s-slurs I hear from the rest of g-guys in c-class every day didn’t s-scare me as m-much. It was finally n-not the end of the w-world if I was…” His stance never faltered, but now Stan was fully aware of Bill’s reddened eyes and wet cheeks. “I w-wanted to t-tell you Stan, I p-p-promise. I f-finally decided that I had t-to, no m-matter how scared I was. B-but then you stopped t-talking to m-me, and when you s-saw me, you would r-r-run away f-from me. I thought you s-somehow found out on y-you own,” Bill rasped, losing his voice as a new stream of tears poured out. “B-but I never thought that y-you would be that d-d-d-disg-gusted—”  
“Bill, you are anything but disgusting.” Stan’s heart couldn’t handle any more of Bill talking so honestly about how badly Stan had hurt him.  
“I s-saw your f-f-face. Why else w-would you s-say that?”  
“Because I was jealous!” Stan exploded. “All I want is for you to ask me out, or hold my hand, or hell, even just look at as something more than just your friend. God knows, I spend every night praying that you’ll notice me. But finally finding out that you’re gay by hearing about you having sex with somebody else? I’m not strong enough for that. I’m sorry.”  
An eternity passed as they stood in the dark, both crying and staring at the floor. Stan wanted to leave, to avoid embarrassing them any further, but he also couldn’t bear to leave Bill alone in such an upset state once more.  
“I wish it had been you.”  
Stan thought he misheard. He looked up, but the boy in front of him still avoided eye contact. “It w-wasn’t a fun experience. I w-was so lonely, I f-found the first guy who was even remotely interested. When he w-was done, he just cleaned up and l-l-left.” He lifted his head, and whimpered as his voice finally broke, “I w-w-wish I could’ve been with someone I l-love. I w-wish it was you.”  
Cautiously, Stan took Bill’s hand in his. The sobbing boy reciprocated the touch, clenching his fingers tightly in Stans firm grasp.  
“I’m sorry, Bill. For what I said tonight, for avoiding you, and for not seeing how much pain you’ve been living with.” He felt the other’s pulse calming in the comforting connection, almost becoming one with his own.  
“Stan,” Bill whispered, “d-does it ever g-get easier?” Stan, never releasing his grip, pulled them together, holding his best friend impossibly close. “Yeah, babe,” he cooed breathlessly into Bill’s neck. “It will.”


End file.
